Horizon Ridge I'll send you to hell in a handbasket

Thistle’s quiet words were processed by the Viking, an amused look stealing across his muzzle and dancing in the depths of his icy, oceanic eyes. “Is that so?” Ragnar teased her, voice barely more than a whispering caress. It was an interesting thing to be told of the power he held over her, evident in how she spoke of coming undone at something as small, though highly significant, as his smile. The Viking was sure he could find other ways that could make her come undone but none of them were appropriate to lavish and tease her with while she was pregnant. He snorted once to himself, sighing softly as he thought of them, tempting her to ask but knowing that it would likely only cause her torture to know, though if she was like him and craved the knowledge it was torture not to tell her in and of itself.

For now, they were his little secrets to keep.

“They would be wise not too.” Unless of course they wanted to deal with Ragnar. Some wolves didn’t care, did not fear him as others did. It was a foolish thing but the Viking felt confident that in time, they would learn. He would not allow anyone to further meddle in the carrying out of Odinn’s commands. Pump was enough with the fact that she kept the Beta rank just out of Ragnar’s grasp, and frankly, Ragnar was not willing to test the Allfather’s patience with him. It was not an endless thing, Ragnar knew and he did not want any more failures to bar his rightful place in Valhalla.